


wanna make out and kiss hard wait nevermind

by Borlaaq (orphan_account)



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self-Aware
Genre: Anal Sex, Autistic Benrey (Half-Life), Benrey’s dialogue breaks every rule I know as a professional author, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Premature Ejaculation, Self-Harm, Sloppy Makeouts, Squirting, Trans Benrey, Trans Male Character, a poor excuse to explore Benrey’s character via porn, benrey has dermatillomania, benrey is very very touch starved, my English degree really brought me to this moment huh, okay smut tags now, see chapters for more tags, tdick, there could be some vaginal eventually maybe, they/them for Benrey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24881752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Borlaaq
Summary: it's only just a crush it'll go away. it's just like all the others, it'll go away. or maybe this is danger and he just don't know. you pray it all away but it continues to grow.all of my benrey smut will go here to not spam the tag so just like ignore this and get an extension to block this fic if this isn't your thing.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 47
Kudos: 517





	1. the slip turns to terror and a crush to like

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually really scared of this fandom! Which is a first because I write porn for a living and have really tough skin!  
> But I saw all the other cool people writing porn and went. Fuck it. I see these dudes as characters and not in any way connected to their actors and I always end up writing porn to cope so here it is. 
> 
> Just like don't send it to people who don't wanna see it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: there's like one line of something kinda transphobic here. just benrey saying something that was said to them but gordon quickly comforts them.
> 
> if you're new to my writing (which you probably are cause im from. pretty small fandoms): i use cunt (and related terms) for transmales and dick/cock/whatever for their tdick. they have anal here, however.
> 
> this is like. really hurt/comfort.

The first time it happens, Gordon is too surprised to even be disgusted. 

He had got up into Benrey’s face, beyond pissed with the guard. They had backed up, holding their hands up as if that would make up for all the bullshit they had put him through. Gordon had been at his breaking point, grabbing the collar of their shirt and hauling them up to his level. He doesn’t even remember what he had been so mad about. 

Benrey sputters, suddenly without oxygen. It’s an impressive show of strength on Gordon’s part. Their ashen skin suddenly has _some_ form of color. And it all just makes Gordon even more furious. He slams them against the concrete wall and they hiss, the air knocked out of their lungs. So they can feel pain.

“What the _hell_ is wrong with you.” He practically spits the words into Benrey’s face, his teeth (disappointingly blunt, if you asked Benrey) bared. His breath fans over their face and Gordon is pressed up against them as they gasp for air. He’s choking them and can’t bring himself to care. They can’t _die_. They aren’t human. 

And then, they shudder. A full body kind of shaking. Their eyes flutter shut and they dig their nails into the shoulders of Gordon’s HEV suit. They make a strangled, gasping sound, pathetic enough that Gordon falters. He drops them and they barely catch themselves. They cough up a drippy ball of purple, quickly wiping it away. 

“Are-are you alright?” Gordon reaches out to them and they laugh. It’s a hoarse, startled kind of noise. “Wh-what does purple mean?”

They lick their lips, mouth and teeth stained purple, meeting his gaze. Their face is flushed with color and they are trying to catch their breath. “It's _plum_ , idiot. F-fuckin’ PHD Freeman doesn’t know his colors. Cringe.” They say and laugh again. This time the sound is more normal. As normal as the monotone, mocking laugh Benrey has can get. 

When Gordon sees them walk away, stiff-legged, with an obvious wet spot on the crotch of their slacks, he can only think of one thing that rhymes with plum. Gordon refuses to think any more about that.

—

Gordon can almost forget about it. Until it happens again. 

Benrey has a horrible, infuriating habit of picking at their skin. When their hands are at their most human, the result is the terrible sound of their nails scraping against their cuticles or them digging at the skin next to their nails. Late at night, the sound is almost deafening to Gordon. 

"Knock it off. Some of us sleep like normal human beings." He's exhausted and doesn't even turn to look at Benrey. 

" _Wah wahhhh_. Does lil baby need a nap? No one's stoppin' you, bro." A pause, and then the sound is somehow louder. Gordon looks up then and jumps slightly when Benrey is sitting right next to him, dragging their nails over a rough callous. The sound is absolutely obnoxious. 

Gordon never considered himself have misophonia, but he thinks he’s quickly developing it. 

His eyes glance down at Benrey’s hands. They’ve drawn blood on several fingers, the black nail polish chipped from their chewing. Their hands look thin and sickly, joints sharp. Their blood doesn’t look like it's the right color, but Gordon can’t quite comprehend _what_ color it is.

(Sometimes, Benrey has more claws than fingers and they dig at their arms without noticing. Gordon still remembers the first time he looked up to see Tommy grabbing Benrey’s hand. They looked up at him, blinked slowly, and then looked at the bloody claw-marks up their arm. “Huh? Oh. Uh. Oops.” They mumbled. Tommy had cleaned them up and it had been clear to Gordon this wasn’t a new thing.)

Without thinking, Gordon grabs their hand, just like he remembers Tommy doing. Benrey tilts their head to the side.

“Kinda gay of you, man. Holdin’ my hand? What are you? Some kinda gayman? Gordon Gayman?”

“Why do you do this?” Gordon’s eyebrows are furrowed. He runs a thumb over their knuckles, scabbed and chapped.

Benrey lets out a small noise, halfway between a surprised grunt and a kind of pleased purr. That’s a new sound. Gordon rubs one of their most bloody fingers, pressing to where the skin is raw. They shudder then, mouth open slightly. 

“Are you nervous?” He finds himself asking. He’s not new to anxious habits or even stimming. He has a few himself.

“Huh?”

“Is that why you pick at your skin?”

“Wuh?” Their voice is strangely breathless and quiet. Gordon sighs, looking back down at their hand. He wipes way the blood, the fabric of his gloves catching on their rough skin as he squeezes their fingers between his own. They jerk just a bit and Gordon looks up in time to see them biting their knuckles of their other hand. Their sharp teeth are drawing blood and their eyes look glazed over.

“Fucks sake, Benrey. You’re hurting yourself.” Gordon grabs their other hand, pulling it away and pressing their palms together. Drips of purple slip from the corner of their mouth and they let out a low gasp, their eyes rolling back almost comically. It’s too late then, all Gordon can do is rub the skin between their fingers as they shudder. 

It's… hot, Gordon finds himself thinking. But what he says is some stammered out, embarrassed apology. He quickly releases their hands and they fall onto their back bonelessly. They snicker, the sound hoarse.

“ _Fffffuuuuckkkkkk_ ,” they practically whine and Gordon’s face burns as he tries very, very hard not to glance down at the wet spot between their legs.

At least that shuts them up for the rest of the night so Gordon can try to sleep. Try being the keyword, because he keeps thinking about how the dude can cum so fast. Benrey’s flustered face and noises seem to be burned into his mind, even plaguing his dreams.

Oh, he hates that.

—

The whole losing a hand thing definitely helped Gordon forget about the whole ‘plum means I’m going to cum’ thing. 

He no longer thought about it. Actually he completely forgot for the most part. Instead all of his energy is directed at, well, not dying of blood loss and infection. Any other spare energy goes to being increasingly suspicious and pissed at Benrey. (The adrenaline, at least, seems to be making sure he has enough for all of the above.)

The group settles down for the night down the hall from a locker room. They take turns using the showers, with Gordon volunteering to be last. He knows he’ll be slow anyway. Benrey refuses to shower at all and, with his adrenaline now dwindling, Gordon doesn’t have the strength to argue. He’s been swimming through sewer water and God Knows what else all day. The stub of his wrist _aches_ so badly his vision blacks out at the edges at times. He’s pretty sure he’s chipped a tooth from gritting his jaw in pain. His HEV suit had long since run out of its built in morphine. 

But… he’s been playing the leader for so long he doesn't know how to stop. So he waits for the others to finish up and acts strong. 

Gordon stumbles a bit when it's finally his turn. He limps down the hall and into the locker room. The lights barely work, flickering every so often, and one of the shower heads is broken so it constantly spews water. The showers are communal, just one big room with several faucets. This doesn't surprise him, most of the lower level workers have to share things. 

He never realizes how much he needs two hands until he struggles to get his HEV suit off. It leads to him cursing loudly, nearly in tears, as he tries to just get the hellish thing off so he can get clean and feel at least somewhat warm water on his shoulders. He’s covered in blood and literal shit, probably. He’s never wanted a shower so bad in his life.

And. He. Can’t. Get. His. Goddamn. Suit. Off. 

He keeps reaching for latches with his missing hand and it makes him laugh hysterically every time. His whole body hurts. His eyes sting. He doesn't even recognize his own voice echoing around the room as he spits colorful profanities. 

“You, uh, you need some help, bro?”

Gordon jumps. “Fuck off, Benrey.” He snarls, voice filled with venom. His head is pounding and he quickly tries to wipe the tears from his eyes before turning to look at them. 

They are standing awkwardly in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot. “You’re- you are cussin’ so loud Tommy is a big worry. Fucking got a dirty mouth on you. You don’t wanna worry Tommy, right, bro?” A shrug. “Or- or maybe ya do. Idk.” They literally say IDK and Gordon’s head aches even more. “You’re, like, a mean dude. You probably like when Tommy stresses. Meanie.” 

“I’m not mean—” He starts before sighing, knowing it's futile. “I can’t get out of my HEV suit with one hand. Can you send Dr Coomer or maybe Tommy in to help me?” He looks back down at the mess of latches and buckles, taking a breath as he gets back to work. He tries to steady himself, or rather just distract himself. The last thing he needs is Benrey seeing him having a breakdown. 

The sound of Benrey’s boots on the tile is nice. Good. They’re leaving. Thank God.

Until Gordon notices the sound is getting closer rather than more distant. 

“You gotta do this one first.” They jab a button on his arm and there’s a hiss as his glove loosens. “Noob.” 

“I couldn’t reach that!” Gordon defends. He spins around, about ready to grab them but they press another latch.

“Boop.” They say, as monotone as ever. The other sleeve slackens.

They are mercifully silent as they help him with the rest and Gordon can’t help but give a pleased sigh when the suit finally falls off. He stretches, just in his boxers, socks, and under shirt. Benrey keeps their head turned, suddenly very interested in the tiling of the walls. 

They clear their throat. “You, like, good, now?”

Gordon raises his hand to run it through his hair, only to realize it's his missing one. He lets out a shaky noise. He wants to cry again. He wants so badly to say yes to Benrey, to have them leave him alone but— “Uh, I’m sorry for asking this, but can you— I know this is awkward but— Can you, uh, help me shower...? I need help getting this wound cleaned and—”

Benrey cuts him off. “Yeah. Sure, man. What are friends for? Let’s game.”

Between the two of them, they manage to find a stool for Gordon to sit on and one of the shower heads still produces warm water. Benrey kicks the stool under it and flicks it on, turning their back so Gordon can finish stripping down. This way he can sit with his back to the guard while they clean the places he can’t reach. 

“You gonna leave your helmet on?” Gordon asks, tugging off his shirt. “At least roll up your sleeves, man…” 

“Huh?” Benrey blinks, like they don’t know that they have to remove their clothes in order to keep them dry when standing in a shower. “Oh. Oh yeah. Uh. ‘Course. I’ll… just. Hold-hold on.” 

They unhook their helmet, tossing it to the side. Gordon hadn’t really known what to expect. Their hair is tangled and messy, curls bouncing up from the humidity. The sides and back are short, practically shaved. Probably protocol for Security Guards, Gordon thinks. They have a few facial scars and their skin is still that strange ashen hue. Without the helmet casting a shadow, Gordon can see they have some facial hair and nice sideburns. Nice? Gordon shakes his head.

They keep their eyes down, unbuckling their vest. It falls to the ground with a thud. They hesitate, hands on their tie as they loosen it. Then they tug it over their head and start to unbutton their shirt. The vest had added bulk but they weren't skinny under it. They were built like, well, a security guard. Stocky in a way, but muscled. It was actually a bit surprising, given how short they were. Gordon thought they would be more of a twink.

Christ. Did he really just think that?

“You see something you like, Gayman?” They are staring at him and Gordon is suddenly very aware he was staring at them in turn.

Gordon didn’t think he is much to look at but Benrey looks at him like he’s the whole universe. Dark skin to contrast Benrey’s almost grey-albino complexion. He’s taller and, well, bigger in general. He’s a scientist, really not cut out for this physical labor. (Fighting aliens was not on the job description when he applied nor was it even part of his training. _That_ has to be an OSHA violation.)

“You look normal.” Gordon blurts out suddenly. Because he sure as hell won't admit to ever thinking they were a twink. 

They blush. Honest to God, blush. “Uh. Yeah.” The awkward smile they flash ruins it with their too sharp teeth. It’s like they don’t even know how to smile. “I guess?” Their eyes are still those unnaturally glowing yellow orbs and they turn their gaze back down to wrestling with the buttons of their top. At the same time they kick off their boots and toe off their socks. 

Gordon thinks he should probably look away.

He forces his gaze to the ground, counting cracks in the tiles. He sees Benrey’s uniform shirt fall to the ground and when he sees their hands start to pull off their belt, he drags his eyes back up.

He had intended to simply look at their face but the scars across their body catch his interest. He’s a scientist and has always felt the need to analyze things. Benrey is an anomaly, and at this point, Gordon is sure, an enemy. So he wants to know what he’s up against. That’s normal, right? Checking out your enemy in the showers? Completely normal. 

Most of their scars look self-inflicted: the ones on their arms and wrists, some on their thighs and shoulders. But then there’s a nasty looking y shaped scar from their collarbone down their stomach. (Did Black Mesa do that? What _is_ Benrey, that they would need to do that?) He’s still staring at that scar when he finally notices the scars under their pectorals. Gordon blinks then, instead trying to pay attention to their body hair. They have nice body hair. Jesus. There he goes again—

“You got somethin’ to say?” There’s an unusual bitterness in Benrey’s voice and it catches Gordon off guard. “Maybe like ‘Nice tits, Benrey-boy’? Heard that one before.” They snort, fidgeting. They’re picking at their skin again. 

Gordon doesn’t know what to say. Who the fuck had said that shit to Benrey? He frowns, trying to meet their gaze but they dodge looking at him. He just looks at them for a moment before finally deciding on a course of action. He walks over to them, putting a hand (his only hand, he has to remind himself) on their shoulder. They're a good few inches shorter than Gordon, even more so now without their boots.

“You being trans is the most _normal_ thing about you, man.”

They blink. Once. Twice. Too fast, like they just remembered it's a thing humans do. They open their mouth and only a light blueish orb falls out. They watch it fall to the ground with an awkward wet slapping sound. Gordon can’t help but laugh.

Finally, they manage to say something like a sentence: “Oh, uh, that's— Yo, what happened to your hand. Looks a bit —”

“Shit?” Supplies Gordon, interrupting them. He’s tired but he’s begun to realize Benrey really struggles with words. 

“Yeah, bro. We should do something about that.” 

He rolls his eyes and makes a spinning motion with his finger. Benrey turns around obediently. Gordon finishes stripping down and holds a hand under the spray of water to check the temperature. Satisfied with the warmth, he sits himself down onto the stool with his back to Benrey, and then after a few more moments, he fumbles for a towel to put over his lap. 

It’s embarrassing but the feeling of the water helps him forget about it and eases his muscles — not to mention his pain. He takes the time to start washing the parts of himself he can reach, not exactly wanting to tell Benrey he’s ready yet.

He feels them approach after a bit but they hesitate before asking, “Can I— Is it okay for me to touch you? Your hair is. It’s gross, man.”

Gordon can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah you can.”

Benrey’s hands are gentle, almost timid, at first. They run a hand through his hair, getting out the tangles and gently scratching the dirt and grime from his scalp. He lets out a sigh, leaning into the touch. Gordon isn’t sure why he’s trusting Benrey but he reasons that if they wanted him dead, they would have done it already. He can’t read them at all, but their touch is a welcome distraction. 

“Can I see your arm? Please?” They ask quietly once his hair is clean. Gordon flinches then. He doesn't exactly want Benrey to touch the wound. “Please?” They ask again. 

Gordon gives in with a huff. He holds up his arm and they shuffle a bit to the side and then kneel. (And Gordon definitely does _not_ look down to make sure they're still in their boxers. They are. And Gordon doesn't know how to catalog the emotion he feels there. Definitely _not_ disappointment. Although the black fabric sticking to their skin from the water does do _something_ to him.) 

“Might sting.” They mumble. Before Gordon can question it, bubbles of teal and gold come from Benrey’s mouth. The orbs pop messily against the stump of his wrist and he winces. He jerks a bit but Benrey holds him steady. When their eyes flick up to meet his gaze, they almost look _sorry_. 

(But that can’t be right. Benrey would never be sorry. Right?)

Then he can’t feel anything below his elbow. He blinks. “Did you… numb me?”

They hold up one of the more golden balls to him. “It’s rum, bro. Taste it.”

“Dude, I really really don’t want your balls in my mouth.”

“Taste. Please?” 

He gives a sigh, sticking his tongue to the orb. It melts into his mouth and he has to quickly drink it down. And wow. It's… yeah, that's definitely rum. It burns his throat and he coughs. “That’s fucking _strong_.” He wheezes. He immediately feels heat in his body and sways. “Jesus. That’s the strongest fucking alcohol I’ve ever had.”

“Don't gotta be a lightweight. Did ya want some coke too, like a lil baby having their first big boy drink?”

“Look, I just prefer fruity drinks! And don’t you call me gay.”

“Nah. Fruity is pretty good. You got me there. You ever had slivovitz?” Benrey hums to themselves as they turn their attention to the work at hand (or, rather, not at hand. Get it? Haha. Gordon hates himself.) He has to admit being numb lets them do a much better job at cleaning out the wound.

“Slivovitz? What, like plum wine? No. Can’t say I have. Kinda a wine-cooler guy.”

“It’s brandy.” They roll their eyes. “But wine-coolers? Really, bro? Now _that’s_ gay.”

“Oh, fuck you.” He laughs, flicking water at them. 

They mumble something very close to “ _Please_ ” but Gordon can’t quite catch it over the sound of the shower. The two of them fall quiet and he can see Benrey’s eyebrows furrowed as they make sure the wound is clean. Their tongue pokes out in concentration as they get all the dried blood washed off around his wrist. Gordon watches the water run red and then pink. It stings past the numbness when Benrey has to pick out something stuck in it but soon it's over.

They lean down and press a kiss to his wrist. They stay like that for a few moments, feeling his pulse against their mouth. 

“Heart’s racing. You doing okay, bro?” They glance up at him, words spoken directly into the sensitive skin of his inner arm. 

"Why are you doing this?" Gordon won't admit that his breath trembles and maybe his heart does skip a beat. It's strangely intimate, having Benrey kiss the damage. And he can’t even begin to comprehend their motives. 

"Checking your pulse. Duh." They stand up to turn off the faucet and then shake their head and get water all over like a dog. "I have some bandages in my vest. Chill for a sec."

He's still bleeding slightly. The wound hasn't closed but at least it's clean. He's still numb, which is a bonus. “Not that.” Gordon sighs, grabbing a dry towel to wrap around his waist while Benrey has their back turned. “All of this. Why help me? This is all your fault in the first place.”

He can see them pause. They don’t tense, they don’t move, they just… freeze. Gordon can’t even see them breathing. From here he has a good view of the scars on their back, claw marks across their shoulders and back. Their shoulder blades have what look to be more incision like scars, precise, medical. Gordon looks away. 

Benrey stands up and tosses him a small roll of gauze. He barely catches it, fumbling a bit. “Free-Butterfingers-Man. Lil’ clumsy boy.”

Of course they would ignore him. He sighs in defeat, going about the annoying work of trying to wrap his arm. He refuses to ask them for any more help and from a brief glance, they are too busy trying to dry their boxers anyway. 

“Do you hate me?" They ask suddenly. Their knuckles are white as they squeeze their boxers, what had once been to try and get the water out had turned into a death grip.

Gordon almost drops the bandages. The question is so far out of left field for Benrey. He wants to say yes. He really really wants to say yes. But he remembers hearing their surprise when he had his hand cut off, like Benrey genuinely didn’t anticipate that part of their betrayal. This seems to be their first realization that their actions have consequences. 

He takes a step closer, trying to read them. Benrey doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t push. They don’t do anything, really, except start to pick at their skin. 

“No.” Gordon says, after what feels like much too long. His voice is quiet. When they don’t respond, he adds: “Look at me, Benrey.”

They turn their head, look at his ear, or nose, anything but his eyes. Gordon doesn’t push that. They aren’t picking at their skin now, instead shifting somewhat awkwardly. The two had shuffled closer during tense moments. They’ve bitten their lip hard enough that a small trickle of blood is starting. Benrey’s own eyes flick down to Gordon’s lips and they lick away the blood. They tear their eyes away when Gordon moves, the trance seemingly broken. They look back down to their boxers.

" _Mannnnn_.” They groan dramatically. “These are totally soaked. I can't put my pants back on like this."

And Gordon, who always thinks before he speaks, thank you very much, blurts out: "As if it's the first time you've stained your pants around me." 

“Woah, woah, shut up, feetman!” Their blush travels all the way down their neck and to their ears. Gordon smirks and Benrey adds, all in one breath and very quickly, “I’mtouchstarvedokaygeezemandon’tgottabringitup.”

“Huh? Wuh?” Gordon puts on his best Benrey-impression, which isn’t very impressive but it gets them floundering even more. And holy shit, he did not expect that kind of reaction. Their voice cracked and everything. It was fucking _cute_. Gordon doesn't even try to correct his brain. 

Instead of anymore half decipherable words, they cough up a large orb of bright candy red. They immediately try and grab it, popping it in their hands to hide it. Gordon raises an eyebrow as they turn away and cough a few more times, nearly gagging. 

"You alright there, man?" He reaches out to them before deciding against it and letting his arm fall back down.

"'m fine." They mumble. "Just, uh, don't like that flavor." They glance back, nose wrinkled. 

"What flavor is it?" 

Their lips are still stained red. Their eyes glance down to Gordon's own lips and then, slowly, intentionally, they drag their gaze back up his face. "Fuck around and find out?" Their voice lifts up like it's a question, like it's a request. 

" _Really_?" He sighs, but he's leaning forward. He licks the corner of their mouth before drawing back. They nearly fall forward trying to chase his lips. "...is that fucking licorice? What the fuck rhymes with licorice."

They groan. "It means I wanna, like, kiss you, bro. In like a completely normal way like two bros do. Chillin' five feet apart 'cause we aren't gay." 

"Oh." Is what leaves Gordon's mouth. He earned that degree from MIT. He swallows. He kinda sorta maybe wants to kiss Benrey too. They are both kneeling on the ground and Benrey’s eyes search Gordon’s face desperately. Is this a joke? The taste is still in his mouth. Benrey’s Sweet Voice has always been the only thing honest about them.

What else could rhyme with licorice? Ravish? His face burns. Not… thinking about that, Gordon scolds himself. 

So Gordon kisses them. Their lips barely touch and Benrey lets out a shaky breath. 

“You can do better than that, bro. Pull out those pro gamer strats. _Come onnnnn_.” They whine against his lips, and, holy shit, does that shoot straight to Gordon’s dick. They’re annoying and he wants them to shut up with the stupid shit. He tangles a hand in their hair, tilts their head back and kisses them in earnest. It's sloppy, rough, and Benrey quickly shoves their tongue into his mouth. He groans then, and they shudder from the sound. Teeth graze his lip and their tongues twist against one another. Benrey seems to want to map out every inch of Gordon’s mouth and they shift closer, almost in his lap. 

They pull back first, panting, with a string of saliva connecting them. Their pupils blown wide and face flushed. Gordon is sure he looks the same. They swallow, considering, then: “This seat taken?” They point at his lap. 

And Gordon’s towel is starting to tent with his quickly growing erection. “No.” He rasps, leaning back a little so they can straddle him. And shit this is really happening. Their thighs are cold around his waist but they quickly recapture his lips in another intense kiss. 

Well, this one could barely be called a kiss. Teeth knock almost uncomfortably and Benrey’s hands are trying to feel every inch of skin they can. Their chests are pressed together, not an inch left between their bodies. Gordon isn’t sure who rolls their hips first but they both gasp in pleasure. He tugs at their hair, trying to somehow get their mouths closer. 

Gordon tastes alcohol. It’s good, just as strong as the rum, and burns his throat. He can’t get enough and he swirls his tongue in Benrey’s mouth, trying to place the flavor. His mind is foggy. Benrey whines, hips jerking erratically. Their thighs are trembling. 

Oh, Gordon barely realizes, slivovitz. Plum. 

He breaks the kiss, hand clenched in their hair so he can watch their face. Because he wants to watch them as they cum, appreciate it for once. Their boxers were already wet from the shower, but Gordon feels the new heat seep through. 

“Christ.” He groans. Both of their mouths are stained purple and Gordon feels the heat of himself getting very drunk very fast. Benrey takes a moment to recover, panting and clinging to him. It’s fucking. Hot. Really hot. Gordon is throbbing and he’s positive Benrey can feel it. 

“Fuck me.” They say suddenly and it's not as deadpan as usual. It’s breathy and needy. They are already leaning back to try and pull off their boxers. At the same time they scramble for something in one of their vest pockets.

“Wha— You just came. We don’t have to—” How much stamina does this dude have?

“Gotta get the high score, bro.” Their tone is still breathless and they pause to glance up at him. “You’re rock hard. Just fuck me in the ass. I’ll even say no homo.”

Gordon’s prick jerks at that. Not the no homo part but just— Jesus, Benrey is so fucking lewd it does things to his dick, that traitor. He runs a hand down his face. He’s fucking drunk, he’s sure of it. He would never agree to this otherwise. He wants to stop them but suddenly they’re shifting, a bottle of lube in one hand and the other behind their back. He groans when he realizes they’re fingering their ass and he can practically hear the wet sounds. His eyes glance down to between their thighs. 

“Can I, uh, touch you?” Gordon doesn’t even realize what he’s saying until it’s already out of his mouth.

“Freeman wants to touch Benrey’s giant cock? Fuck yeah, man. I knew you were gay.”

He mentally catalogues that they used the word ‘cock’ for later, so he knows what words to use to not make them uncomfortable. (Later? He’ll pretend he didn’t just mentally promise himself a _later_ .) He leans back, propping himself up with his elbow so he can use his only hand to explore. He knows what hormones do to transmen. He took a whole course on it in college (and look, that’s another story. He needed an elective and he was curious!). But he’s never _seen_ it. 

He runs his fingers through their happy trail and they spread their legs for him. All the while still panting and moaning as they work their asshole open. They still a bit when Gordon presses a palm to their pubic mound.

Benrey’s cock is hard and twitching, slick with their own wetness. It peeks out from their hair and lips. It's… wow yeah it's big. They could probably really use that for penetration. That makes Gordon’s face blush. It finally occurs to Gordon that Benrey has a _cunt_. And oh, that means— Every time they came, they had squirted enough to leave a wet spot through their pants. He moans aloud at the realization. That’s beyond hot, actually. Like the fucking porn he used to watch in college. 

He takes their cock between his fingers, giving them a stroke. The head is peeking out and they run a thumb over it experimentally. They thrust into the touch with a sharp cry. 

“Sssshhhitttt.” They hiss. “Tooooo sensitive for that, Freeman. Hurry up and, just — lay on your back. I’m going to ride you like a fucking, uh, a fucking my little pony.”

“Don’t say it like that, man.” But he’s listening, laying back and putting his hand on their hip. They raise up to their knees, pulling the towel away to grab a hold of his cock. They make a noise that almost sounds like a purr as they give him a slow jerk. Their hand is slippery with lube and it drags a low groan from Gordon’s throat. He immediately thrusts into their hand, head tossed back. Okay, maybe he’s just a bit touch-starved too. 

Benrey lowers themself and the feeling nearly knocks the wind from Gordon’s lungs. They’re tight and _warm_. The only fucking warm part about them. His head spins. They’re dripping down their thighs by the time they have his full length in them. He can see their own cock throbbing and he has to close his eyes to even out his panting.

“You— fuck. Gordon. You’re _big_ , man.”

His eyes open when they say his first name. His cock twitches in interest at that. And really, of everything happening, hearing Benrey gasp out his first name is the most exciting to his dick? Fuck, fine. They lean over him, hands against his chest and they bounce their hips. Gordon nearly spills his load right there but he’s not a quick shot like Benrey. Instead, he thrusts his hips up, a bit too hard, he thinks. They gasp, pressing their face to his neck. 

Gordon is about to apologize for being so rough when he feels Benrey’s teeth graze his Adam’s apple. “ _Harder_.” They growl and the sound makes heat coil in his stomach. He digs his nails into Benrey’s his and braces his feet flat onto the ground for better balance. He jerks up into them and they hiss in pleasure. They meet each movement with their own, sucking and biting at Gordon’s neck. Their nails leave raised lines down his arms and chest and Gordon is glad his suit will cover all the marks. 

And some primal, angry, part of him thinks that Benrey would look with a hickey of their own. One they can’t hide. A mark to show that Gordon had put them in their place. 

He fists a hand into their hair and pulls back their head. They pant, gasping as neither stop their movements. Gordon mouths at their neck, licking away a line up sweat to just under their jaw, where it would just barely peak out from the collar of their uniform. He kisses at it for a bit, feeling their legs tremble. They can’t form words, just desperate noises and every so often Gordon’s name slips out. He sucks at the skin, then, hard, and a sharp cry leaves their throat. It quickly turns into a literal song. 

He can _smell_ the alcohol this time. He can feel their body tighten around him and he groans against their neck. “Really? You came again?” 

“S-shut up, bro. It’s your, like, epic dick. Milking me dry. P-play of the game, right there for sure. Fuck.”

Gordon can’t help but laugh, giving a sharp thrust into them. He’s close too now. Very close. “Benrey. Shit. I’m not gonna last much longer.” 

“B-better fill me up then, big guy. Show me that baby batter. Want that Freeman-Brand Cream Filling™.”

“You’re gonna make me go soft, dude.” He huffs but his thrusts are sloppy and erratic. He tries to rationalize that it’s so he can get done faster and get it over with, but it’s just so _Benrey_ that he can’t bring himself to care. He pulls his head away just to look at how wrecked Benrey is right now. They’re flushed and panting, eyes screwed shut. Their whole body is shaking and their mouth is emitting an almost constant string of Sweet Voice of pink and purple and blue. 

"Yo, Freeman," Benrey's breath is ragged in a way that makes Gordon's stomach flip.

"I swear to God, Benrey, if you say anything stupid when I'm about to cum, I will kill you." 

They chuckle, sitting up straight and grinding their hips in a circle motion. The action alone draws a sharp groan from him but then they tighten their muscles, their ass squeezing around his cock. He curses, hips jerking up. 

"Cheat code. Want me to do it again?" Fuck him, they _purr_ the words.

"God, yes," he pants in reply. Benrey flashes him a smirk that at any other time would be infuriating and even downright terrifying, but right now it makes his cock pulse inside of them. Gordon just knows they’re about to say something awful so he leans up on his one hand, and kisses them. They flinch back just a bit in shock before practically shoving their tongue into his mouth. They fist both hands into Gordon’s hair and their body clenches. 

Gordon groans into their mouth, unable to hold back as they still deep inside them. He cums hard, a shudder running down his back as he fills them. They give a weak whine in reply, rolling their hips to prolonged his orgasm as much as possible. Gordon finally breaks the kiss to try and breathe, laying onto his back with his arm over his eyes. 

Benrey slips off his lap, unsteady on their legs. They hold a hand out to help him up, mumbling something like, “Boo, guess it’s time to hide that hot bod back in your tin can.”


	2. you leave to have a cigarette and knees get weak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter tags: Smoking. Blowjobs, both of the cis and trans variety. Some musk/sweat. Throat fucking. Squirting (Again. Always. Look Benrey is a squirter and there is nothing you can do about it). Vaginal Fingering. Multiple Orgasms. 
> 
> I feel like I have to warn you that I use the term ‘DILF milk’ and also apologize for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do this thing where I pepper just tiny bits of headcanon and personal lore into porn (I would say as a treat but its not a treat its just confusing to y’all probably) and that's all you'll probably ever get from me. Good luck figuring out whatever is happening in my head.
> 
> Also this was not what i wanted to finish in time for my own birthday but i dont think i can finish the idea i wanted by the 5th so this is my birthday fic to myself now.

Benrey understands… very little about emotions, and less so about how to express them. So they simply. Don’t. It’s boring, and, if they’ve learned anything from Black Mesa, boring means pain. Pain like bright lights and white sterile rooms. The drone of scientists and the smell of rubber gloves. Pain like when they decided Benrey didn’t need anesthesia anymore during their appointments. 

(Somewhere the lines got crossed because Benrey is now acutely aware that pain from Gordon isn’t boring and isn’t even bad. When Gordon hurts them they feel  _ alive _ . So they piss Gordon off on purpose just for that rush of his arm against their neck or the thrill of anger flashing through his eyes.)

Yet, Benrey understands some things very well. Things like pain and pleasure and how they blur together now. 

(— They aren’t new to blurred lines. Crossed timelines and dimensions. It's a mess that they can barely take the time to really understand because what’s the point when they’re stuck here anyway? They can’t go  _ home _ .)

Benrey also is very aware that their little crush is getting out of hand. (It really really wasn’t supposed to happen like this. A number of things went wrong at a number of places that they really don’t want to think about.)

The Security Guard training was fun. They like being able to explore and fill out their map, get achievements. They're going to 100% the game. The scientists of Sector E allow them free roam as long as they show up to their scheduled appointments and do their job. 

Benrey likes that. The illusion of freedom.

When Gordon’s hand brushes theirs when they pass him the cigarette, the jolt down their spine is better than anything else. Well, perhaps only second to whatever Gordon does that makes Benrey taste plum alcohol. And that ‘whatever’ seems to change on a daily basis. 

The cig they’re sharing is almost gone. (They have to conserve them. Cigarettes are banned in Black Mesa anyway and Benrey highly doubts his source is still around at this point.) Benrey blows out a smoke ring and hands the rest to Gordon. He needs it more. 

“Yo," they say. They pointedly look away from him, watching their combined smoke curl together. It’s almost intimate and they have to bite back some strange emotion that boils up in their gut.

Gordon blinks, glancing up at Benrey sitting on the crate. Usually the two of them share the cig in silence and Benrey can feel his slight irritation of that being interrupted when Gordon replies. “What.” He deadpans, cracking his neck with a groan. The sound is loud and Benrey has to stop themselves from wincing. Sleeping on the concrete obviously hasn’t been kind to him.

Benrey cuts straight to the chase, then. “Can I, like, suck your dick?”

Even though the two of them had been having quick fucks against almost any surface since the shower incident, the question still takes Gordon off guard. It almost makes Benrey chuckle, watching a blush creep up his face. They thought he was past that. 

“You don’t usually ask.” He responds awkwardly. 

“Jesus, sorry for being polite, Feetman.” Benrey rolls their eyes. 

He purses his lips and then drops the cigarette butt, grinding it into the ground with his heel. He is very aware of how Benrey watches the action and he makes sure to do it slow enough for it to practically be a tease. Gordon is sure Benrey would spit-shine his boots if he asked. 

“I haven’t showered in days, man.”

“So?” Benrey is already sliding off the crate. 

Gordon frowns but he can’t deny the predatory look in Benrey’s eyes makes a heat start to build in his stomach. “Kiss me and we’ll see how I feel.”

“Yessss, sir.” Benrey purrs. They put a cold hand on the back of Gordon’s neck, guiding him down. Their lips brush and both of them feel a jolt down their spine. He sighs into the kiss, fondly. Benrey usually waits for Gordon to set the pace, to deepen their kisses, but tonight seems different. They nip at his lower lip, immediately dragging their tongue over it as if to soothe. A small prick of blood and Benrey presses themselves closer.

Their hands pry off his chest piece as their own tongue dodges Gordon’s. Every time Gordon goes in to deepen the kiss, Benrey sucks or bites his lip. It's infuriating, it's playful, and yeah, it’s making Gordon’s dick harden. Benrey can feel him shifting, knowing the suit is uncomfortable for an erection. Still, they take their time. He can’t undress himself so Benrey has a little fun with it. 

Gordon pulls Benrey closer, knocking off their helmet so that he can wind his hand into their unruly curls. This also gives him the leverage to finally, finally, get his tongue into their mouth. They smirk, sucking on his tongue before allowing him access. 

Finally, Benrey manages to loosen their gear enough to get to the clothes underneath. The chest piece is thrown to the ground, the suit unzipped, and the pants shoved down. The leg and arm plates hang loosely around him. Benrey wastes no more time shoving their cold hands under his shirt. 

Gordon gives a sharp inhale and the sound makes Benrey’s pulse race. They drag their nails down his chest, teasing his nipples until they are hard and Gordon is panting. Benrey knows exactly where to touch him, how to make goosebumps bloom under their fingertips. They mouth at his neck, then, licking and sucking. 

His smell is strong, heady and Benrey can’t stop from inhaling it. Sweat and blood, with the underlying scent that’s just  _ Gordon _ . It’s intoxicating and they roll their hips a bit. They lick up the dried sweat, tracing his jaw with their nose. Fingers press into his hip bones, trace under the pudge of his stomach and Gordon finally allows himself to buck his own hips. Benrey lets out a low, pleased noise, immediately taking it as consent to work off the rest of the HEV suit just enough to free Gordon’s dick. 

Then they’re falling to their knees. 

The sight nearly knocks the wind out of Gordon’s lungs, blood rushing to his cock fast enough it leaves his ears ringing. Benrey flashes him a sharp smirk, tracing the outline of his erection with their tongue. Their eyes are hooded but their pupils are blown out. They haven’t gotten him out of his briefs and they are already drooling. Gordon tugs their hair, grinding his cock against their cheek and they make a hoarse sound. He can see their eyes brighten, nails digging into his hips. They lick their lips, nuzzling him through the fabric. 

They’re practically drunk off his smell. Dazed. The feeling of Gordon’s hot cock rubbing against their cheek has a familiar heat pooling between their legs. They close their eyes, inhale shakily. They need more.

Gordon isn’t sure who is more impatient during these moments, but he’s fine tugging Benrey’s hair and rolling his hips until finally they practically claw at his boxers to free his cock. Instead of immediately taking him into their mouth, they lick a hot line down his shaft until they nose at his balls. Gordon can't even think, just stare, as Benrey takes his sack into his mouth and sucks. 

The smell and taste makes Benrey shiver. Eyes flashing up to meet Gordon’s. His mouth is open slightly and it’s obvious he’s never had his balls in another guy’s mouth before. Benrey has to stop from laughing as he lets out a loud, surprised, moan. His face is red and the grip on their head slackens. And fuck, does that shocked look hot on him.

They’re careful about their teeth as they let their eyes fall shut again. They stroke his length, wrapping a hand around him. They tease his balls for a bit longer before pulling their mouth away with a lewd, wet, plop. Gordon shudders and curses under his breath. Slowly they drag their wide tongue up his cock and over the head, savoring the taste of his precum. They can feel him throbbing in their hand. Benrey teases the head of his cock, licking up every drop of pre, before finally taking him into their mouth. Gordon practically yelps in pleasure, hips shaking. 

Gordon is lucky their mouth is full because they have so many snarky things they want to say. But they can’t bear to remove their mouth. Not when Gordon is pulsing on against their tongue and pre is dripping steadily. They want to taste all of him. Eat him up. 

They hum around him, throat vibrating as they take him down to the hilt. He can’t help but buck his hips then, before quickly stammering out apologies. Benrey flashes him a glare, grabbing his hand and his gun-hand and forcing them both against their head. Gordon’s dick twitches down their throat.

“You— You sure?” 

Benrey rolls his eyes, nodding as best they can.

Gordon is thankful that their teeth suddenly seem much duller as he grabs their head. His gun-hand is pressed against their jaw to keep them at the angle he wants. (— And fuck if that  _ threat _ doesn’t get Benrey’s own cock throbbing.) He gives a shaky sigh as he tests the feeling with a thrust. It takes him a few stiff movements to find a pace, but eventually he’s fucking Benrey’s throat. They groan around him, alternating between sucking and rolling their tongue over his cock. His eyes are screwed shut, leaning back so he can put strength into his hips. 

The whole thing has Benrey worked up enough that they can taste plum liquor on the back of their tongue. A wet spot is forming between their legs. They brace themselves against Gordon’s thighs and just let him use them. It’s good to be used, they think. It’s something they know. 

"Benrey— shit, man, I'm about to—" His hips buck erratically, desperately, and that's a boost to Benrey's ego they don't need. Gordon attempts to pull them away, but they take them to the back of their throat, swallowing hard around him so their throat tightens. They move a hand to gently squeeze his balls and Gordon gives a sharp cry.

He cums down their throat, spilling himself as he shudders. Benrey almost laughs at how fast he cums, but they really have no room to talk. They don't waste a single drop and make sure to suck him through his orgasm. Finally they pull off his dick with a pop. 

Gordon can only stare as they open their mouth to show they swallowed, like they’re in some kind of porno. Even as he quickly starts to soften, Benrey takes note of how his dick twitches. "Fuck. You didn't have to… Wasn't it gross?" 

Benrey laughs and both of them seem surprised at how hoarse the sound is. They clear their throat. “Nah, bro. I fucking- I love that gamer juice.”

Back to saying stupid things. Gordon stares at them, still trying to catch his breath. 

So they continue, “DILF milk.”

He runs his hand over his face, legs still shaky. When Benrey doesn’t move from their position on their knees, he looks back down at them. Without much thought, Gordon holds out a hand to help them up. They hesitate before taking it.

“Wait. Did you get off, man?” He asks as he pulls them to their feet.

“‘m chill.” Benrey replies quickly.

“That’s— That isn’t what I asked.” Benrey gives him a confused look and Gordon frowns. “Look. In this… whatever this weird relationship we have is— if one gets off, so does the other. No exceptions.”

Benrey has never had someone so worried about their pleasure. They blink, mouth slightly agape but anything they were about to say dies in their throat when Gordon reaches out to unbutton their uniform slacks. Their mind is blank.

“Probably easier if you sit up on the crate again,” Gordon mumbles. 

“Bro. I’m fine, better than fine, one-hundred percent good.” Their face is burning and they’re light-headed. This situation is making all kinds of new feelings fester that they really don’t want to spend time analyzing. 

“Nope. I’m gonna return the favor.”

“You can just, like, kiss me and I’ll blow my load,” they huff, avoiding looking at him.

“That’s not enough to satisfy you and we both know it.”

Is it really that obvious? If possible they manage to blush even more. They do hop up onto the crate, though, shuffling awkwardly. Gordon finishes unbuttoning their pants, shoving their shirt up just enough that he can place a kiss to their stomach. Benrey swallows down a hiss, biting their tongue. It’s not exactly an elegant affair, trying to get their pants and boxers shoved down while they are both fumbling, but the two manage. 

Benrey knows Gordon had been a bit of a wild bi during his early college days, so they can’t help but laugh at his next question. “So, uh, how do you want me to do this? Like, should I eat you out or…”

“God, Feetman. Such a noob. Cringe. I’ve got a dick, see?” They motion and yeah, Gordon definitely sees. Benrey watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and licks his lips. In response, their prick twitches. Benrey is suddenly very aware they’ve never had anyone go down on them. “But like, with a bonus level. Bonus, uh, hole.”

“Is… it alright if I finger you?” 

Benrey’s heart skips a beat. Their eyes flicker to Gordon’s fingers where he’s holding their thighs apart. He has big, thick fingers. They inhale shakily. “Yeah, bro. You can get your fingers wet. Dip ‘em right in like you’re at a kiddy pool.”

He places kisses along their happy trail, following it until his nose rubs against their painfully sensitive cock. They dig their nails into the crate to keep themselves from bucking up. They feel like any movement or word will scare Gordon away. Benrey is shaking as they watch Gordon lick his own fingers, just two of them, before dragging his index finger down their slit.

Shit shit shit. This is really happening. 

Something like Irish Cream slips over their tongue and they swallow it down. They’ve only ever dreamed of this.

Gordon looks up at them, rubbing from their entrance to all the way up their cock. He’s fucking teasing them. The cold of his gun-hand keeping their legs spread wide enough it almost hurts.

“You-you’re killin’ me, bro,” they croak. “I won’t respawn if you kill me this way.”

“No one has ever died from not getting off.” He rolls his eyes. “But you may be dehydrated with… how wet you are.” A smirk. Gordon fucking smirks at them. Their breathing catches. 

“Gordon Meanman.” They try not to sound needy but their voice still comes out sounding like a whine. Gordon drags his tongue over the head of their cock and they almost yell. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

Something in Gordon is drunk off the power. It's a heady feeling. Watching Benrey squirm at his touch. It’s addicting. 

“You’re drooling purple, man.” His voice is cocky and Benrey quickly licks the corner of their mouth. Without warning, he presses a finger inside of them, slow and steady but it makes them moan. The crate bends under their claws, creaking as they dig literal lines in the steel. Two large orbs of bright purple slip from their mouth and float into the air, illuminating Benrey in the color and smell of plum. 

And Gordon can feel their cunt tensing around his finger, pulsing and pulling the digit in deeper. Benrey’s thighs are shaking and their eyes are rolled back.

“I think you can do better than that.” Gordon thrusts his finger right up against their gspot and they jerk their hips. The noise they make this time is desperate and broken. 

“Shit, yeah, make me cum again. Please, Gordon.”

He chuckles at the use of his first name, but obliges them. Because of course he does. Gordon’s a nice guy, despite the rumors. He wouldn’t blueball his buddies. 

Benrey feels like they’re being studied and for once in their life it feels  _ good _ . The way Gordon looks at them like a person but with the interest of a scientist is... new. It’s the only thing making Benrey keep their eyes open. Gordon tests a hypothesis, moves his finger, and is rewarded with a breathy groan. It’s hot — the intensity in which Gordon watches them. He strokes their inner walls, cause and effect, and then leans down to take their cock into his mouth. 

Benrey comes again, hips bucking up without a care. 

Gordon sucks, tongue rolling over their erection. They don’t get soft right away but their sensitivity is high enough that they can feel tears pricking at their eyes. Shakily, they reach out to wind their fingers through Gordon’s hair. They don’t pull, just hold on for support. They feel like they could fade from existence, like Gordon will slip through their fingers.

“One more? For me?” Gordon asks, still with that cocky tone that makes emotions spin in their head. Benrey can’t even breathe, just nod. They would give him the world if he kept asking like that.

A second finger rubs against their cunt and slips in easily. But the stretch is so good Benrey is afraid they may pass out. They aren’t used to the feeling and they try to focus instead on the cold steel of Gordon’s gun-hand to ground themselves. They don’t want it to end and Gordon said only one more. They bite back more sweet voice, rocking into his hand. He scissors his fingers slightly, but most of his attention is on their cock. He licks and sucks, adds just a slight pressure of teeth and Benrey isn’t even sure what they’re saying anymore. None of it makes sense, just a string of curses and words and noises. 

The noises of their cunt, wet and sloppy, is louder in their ears than their own moans. The air smells of sex and their thighs are shaking. They’re thinking of anything but the pleasure coiling in their stomach. The way Gordon’s hair feels in their fingers, the way the crate under them is slick with their own fluids. They’re sweating, jaw clenched as their mouth fills with fucking slivovitz. 

They are suddenly aware of Gordon’s mouth leaving their cock, kissing and nipping at their thighs. His lips linger there as he says, “Benrey. Let go. It’s alright. I’ve got you.” And he replaces his fingers with his tongue and Benrey’s vision goes black. 

Their hips jerk up, hand holding his head against their crotch as they cum. And Gordon fucking  _ swallows _ . He said he would return the favor but, fuck, Benrey was not ready for that. 

They become much too sensitive then, having to tug Gordon away as their cock throbs. The air is filled with purple lights, and somewhere in there are a few orbs the color of the ocean. Benrey blinks at them, trying to catch his breath. 

“Devotion…?” They mumble, not all there. 

“What?” Gordon stands up, prying Benrey’s claws from the crate for them. He rubs their knuckles once, before going to start fixing the mess of his half-off HEV suit. 

“Ah. It’s… It’s nothing, bro. I knew you were good at suckin’. Got that those pouty lips made for dick.” Their tone is mocking again, a fanged smirk curling at the corners of their lips. 

Gordon sighs but the sound is more fond than tired, for once.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my writing I'm very interested in taking some HLVRAI requests and you can send em to me over here curiouscat.qa/Borlaaq


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